by Jane Porter
It stopped snowing in the night, and in the morning the landscape she knew was gone, everything utterly still and a pure, glistening white.
Again, McKenna dressed and headed for school, not at all sure what the conditions were like in the rest of the valley. She sank into the snow, hip high in places, and it took her a long time to go a very short distance.
She hoped her students were staying home. She wished she’d stayed home. But once at school she built the fire, and then shoveled off the steps, and then tried to clear a path, but her efforts halfhearted because she was freezing cold and soaked through.
McKenna knelt next to the biggest potbelly stove, hands up, teeth chattering, unable to get warm.
She shouldn’t have come today. She should have known that no one was coming. She should have known so many things that she didn’t.
One day she’d get it together.
One day she’d amazed everyone… maybe even amaze herself.
The minutes ticked by. She couldn’t move. There was no point in moving. It would only mean crossing the field to get to her house. She didn’t feel much like dealing with the snow.
McKenna rested her head on her arm, and closed her eyes, letting the fire warm her. Her thoughts drifted. She found herself thinking of Sinclair. Her favorite person. Always her favorite person.
But she’d blown it. She’d been too weak, too afraid.
If she were a true Christian, she’d be happy for Sinclair, happy he’d found his match, someone who respected him, someone who would be there for him.
Ellie knew the ranching business. She knew all about cattle. She’d be a great help for him, whereas McKenna knew nothing about cattle or ranching. She knew nothing about being a rancher’s wife.
But she did know Sinclair. She’d always loved Sinclair. But love wasn’t enough. There were still so many obstacles, like their lives and their experiences and their needs that had gone unmet.
McKenna was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the door open. But she did hear the thud of boots on the floor, steps heavy.
She sleepily opened her eyes.
Sinclair.
Her heart felt sleepy too, but happy, and she smiled at him, such a tall rugged man covered in white. “Missing a lunch pail?”
“I don’t think anyone’s coming, sweetheart. Most people are snowed in.”
She stretched. “How did you get out then?”
“I’m not most people.”
No, he wasn’t.
He crossed the floor, walking towards her. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not as cold as I was.”
“You did all that shoveling outside?”
“I wanted to clear a path for the children.”
“You should let the boys do that.”
“There were no boys here.”
“True. But I’m here now. And I’m going to see you back to your house.”
“I’m too tired. Let me stay here.”
“It’s chilly in here. You don’t have enough wood. You’ll freeze.”
“At least Superintendent Egan will know I was on the job.”
He reached down and scooped her up. “We’re not having Emigrant’s first teacher die on the job.”
“You can’t carry me back. It’s a long walk.”
“I walk even further to get to my barn, I think I can manage getting you back.”
“I’m heavy.”
“And way too talkative.” He gave her a crooked smile and she knew he was teasing her. All was okay.
*
At her house Sinclair built a big fire and refilled her woodbin. He boiled water for tea and once the water boiled he made her a cup and he had one, too. McKenna was unusually quiet as she sat on the side of her bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders since she still was chilled.
He couldn’t stay much longer. He shouldn’t have come in the first place, but at least now he knew she was home and safe, and he could go home and have some peace of mind.
“Thank you,” she said, hands clasped around her cup.
He nodded, and followed her gaze. She was looking at the silver framed photo on the mantle. It was a photo of her, and her sister with their father.
“You saved me,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “You were fine. You would have been fine if you’d stayed at school.”
“No. I meant when Mother was dying. You saved me. I couldn’t have gotten through those last weeks of her life, without you. You kept me whole.” She looked at him, dark eyes bright. “But you were right. What have I ever done for you? What have I given you? Just disappointment and pain.”
“I’m content with my lot and my life, McKenna.”
“I hurt you.”
“No more than life hurts one.”
She nodded, tears welling, her misery palpable.
He felt a sharp pinch between his ribs. She had no idea how much it hurt him seeing her like this. “Ah, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Don’t do that.” He struggled to smile. “I’m pretty close to forgiving you. Maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”
She closed her eyes.
She drew a deep breath, and then another. A tear seeped from beneath her lashes. “It will never be the same, will it?”
The pinch in his chest was sharper, deeper. He shouldn’t have come. He hated seeing her like this.
“We had the past,” he said roughly. “Maybe we were never meant to have the future.”
McKenna drew the blanket over her face, and wept. But even with her head covered, he heard the sobs, low and high at the same time, as if each was being wrenched from her.
Unable to take more, he walked out of the house and stood on the porch, staring blindly at the valley of white.
He couldn’t remember seeing her cry since she’d arrived, and now to hear her weep like this, it was hell. He felt like hell. And yet it wasn’t his fault.
He’d given her every opportunity to have a life with him, but she hadn’t wanted it and he’d grown tired of waiting. He was a patient man but even he had his limits.
Sinclair heard his name being called and then abruptly the door opened and McKenna rushed out. “Wait,” she cried, “wait, please.”
“I wasn’t leaving. I just needed air.” He pushed her back inside and closed the door behind him. Barefoot she only reached halfway up his chest. “But I do need to go. I still have all my afternoon chores to do.”
She looked like a child wrapped in the blanket, her face pale, cheeks still streaked with tears, her long dark hair spilling over her shoulders.
It would be a death to leave her. But he didn’t have a choice. He was committed to Ellie now.
He cleared his throat, battling the emotion, smashing it down. “I can’t do this in the future, McKenna. It’s not fair to Ellie. Once I’m married, I’m married.”
She nodded, eyes huge in her face.
“It’s not to hurt you,” he added tightly.
“I know,” she answered.
*
“I know,” McKenna repeated hoarsely, struggling to strengthen her voice. She had to do what was responsible, and proper. For once in her life. “You’re right. You can’t come back here once you’re married.”
She wouldn’t want him to return, either, not if he was married. Sinclair’s integrity mattered to her, and it mattered to the world. His faithfulness had given her strength and hope.
She could still taste her tears and her throat was raw from sobbing but she wouldn’t cry again in front of him. It wasn’t fair to him.
McKenna squared her shoulders, chin lifting. “Thank you for coming today, to check on me. I’m good now. I promise.”
“You know to stay put if there’s a blizzard?”
She nodded. “I know that I shouldn’t go to school, no.”
“And if the blizzard starts when the children are at school?”
“I keep them with me until their parents arrive to collect them.”
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“What if they cry and beg to go home?”
“I tell them stories and entertain them so they don’t cry.”
“And what if you’re here alone?”
Her lips quivered but she made them smile. “I tell myself stories and entertain myself so I don’t cry.”
His eyes searched hers. “I will miss you.”
He had no idea…
He had no idea at all…
She dug her nails into her palms. “You have been my best friend.”
“And you helped me become a man.”
“No, that was all you.”
“I remember how you’d watch me on the field. Big brown eyes watching every move I’d make.”
She fought to hold the tears back. “You were Butte’s greatest athlete.”
“Is it too late for me to play professional ball?”
She laughed and turned away, quickly brushing the tears from her lashes before he could see. “I am sure you could do anything you set your mind to.”
He looked away from her and drew a slow breath.
McKenna knew what was coming next and steeled herself, waiting for it.
“I should go,” he said.
It still hurt even though she knew it was coming. “Yes, you should.”
“You’ll be okay,” he said.
“I am okay.” Because she was. She had to be. “Don’t worry about me anymore. I know what I need to do here. I can manage. I promise.”
“It’s not that easy, though.” His deep voice dropped lower. “It’s never been easy leaving you, but now—”
“It’s time. It’s the right thing to do.”
He looked at her then, his gaze locking with hers and she said everything with her heart that she couldn’t say aloud. I love you. I will always love you. I will never forget you even if I’m one hundred years old…
He nearly moved towards her and she stepped back. She couldn’t let him come near her. She couldn’t be strong if he was close.
“We’ll still be friends,” she said, retreating to her door and opening it. “We’ll always be friends.”
He hesitated and then he walked through the door and faced out, the world a stunning pristine white. “Promise?”
Yes. No. “Cross my heart.”
He turned to look at her and his mouth curved but his blue eyes weren’t smiling. She gave up trying to smile.
“Be careful going home,” she said.
He nodded, and then she closed the door, releasing him to the future and the good woman he deserved.
Chapter Thirteen
McKenna stared at the envelope propped on her mantle, her name written in elegant script. She knew the printed engraved invitation on the square bristol-board by heart, the wording as formal as an invitation she might have received in New York.
Mr. Archibald Burnett requests your company…
McKenna closed her eyes. She should throw the invitation away. She wasn’t going to go. It would be disastrous to go. She couldn’t bear to see Sinclair with the beautiful Ellie…
She jumped up from her bed and grabbed the invitation from the mantle and tossed it into the fire, letting it burn.
*
It was Friday and the children were out of school for the next two weeks for their much anticipated Christmas vacation. McKenna scrubbed the chalkboards, and took a broom to the eaves, and then afterwards swept the school house floor before mopping it, getting on her hands and knees to reach every corner.
She worked to keep from thinking about the next two weeks. What would she do without her students? How would she pass the next two weeks alone? How would Christmas be when she was by herself?
And tomorrow was the engagement ball at the Graff.
Of course she wasn’t going to go.
She wanted to go.
It would be madness to attend. But McKenna was feeling slightly insane. Her soul mate was marrying someone else.
It was her fault, too. She’d pushed him away with her fear. Jeremy Bernard Clark did more than ruin her reputation. He’d taken her ability to trust.
Finally there was nothing left to clean, and McKenna closed up the school, locking it for the weekend. After bundling up, she walked the short distance to her cabin and opening the door she looked at her life.
The table, the chair, the bed pushed up against the wall. Her stove. The stacked trunks. The lantern and framed photo on the mantle.
This was everything. This was nearly all she owned. She had just a few more treasures she’d kept hidden inside her trunks.
She opened the trunks now and pulled every last thing out.
Her mother’s pearls and teardrop earrings. The softest kid gloves Mary had given her for Christmas two years ago. The desk set Sinclair gave her after she’d graduated from Vassar. A looking glass her father had purchased in Venice for her.
The small pile of books, her five favorite novels. Stories she’d read again and again.
And then her best gowns. The saffron dress she’d worn seven weeks ago to the Brambles’ Hallowe’en party, the dark chocolate velvet dress she’d worn for Thanksgiving, a navy and silver silk dress she hadn’t worn since leaving New York, and then at the very bottom was her favorite dress of all, the silk a gleaming puddle of red.
It would be the perfect dress for the party at the Graff. She’d look like the heiress she once was, before New York turned their backs on her.
McKenna lifted the crimson ball gown from her trunk and gave the stunning gown a shake and, for a moment, she was back on Fifth Avenue about to enter Mrs. Astor’s ballroom.
She wanted to be that person again.
She wanted to be proud and beautiful. She wanted to feel the power of who she was instead of the mouse she’d become.
She’d go. But she needed a ride.
McKenna carefully placed the dress on her bed, and lightly brushed at the silk, trying to smooth wrinkles. But even with wrinkles it was gorgeous and she’d feel like a princess, and maybe it was time to be a princess again, even if just for one night.
Resolved, McKenna pulled on her winter coat and reached for her hat and gloves. If she hurried she could get to and from Emigrant before it was dark. She needed to arrange a ride for the tomorrow night. If she was going to wear her best dress, she needed a proper carriage.
*
The grand lobby of the stately Graff Hotel smelled like a forest, fragrant with pine, and looked like a winter dream, thanks to the massive fir tree filling the center of the marble floor. The soaring tree glittered with silver tinsel, colored glass balls, and one hundred glowing candles.
McKenna stood at the base of the tree, dazzled, transported back to New York, remembering when her father had taken her and Mary to Macy’s to see Santa Claus, and the department store’s fantastic holiday window displays. How she loved Christmas! And there was nothing like the holidays in New York.
Mr. Graff approached her as she turned from his fine tree. “Do you like it, Miss Frasier?”
“Oh, I do. It makes me so happy. This is such a splendid gift to Marietta.”
“I’m not sure if everyone in Marietta approves, but we Germans love our Christmas trees.”
“I’m glad, as you do have the best holiday traditions.” She smiled, grateful for Mr. Graff. From the beginning, he’d been nothing but kind. “Thank you for sharing with the rest of us.” She glanced down the hall leading to the ballroom, her insides suddenly fluttery. “I hear music.”
“It’s quite a party.”
“I can’t imagine anyone missing such a special event.”
“I’m a little bit surprised you’re here.” He gave her a pointed look. “When I heard about the engagement I was quite certain that someone had gotten the facts wrong.”
She flushed, cheeks hot. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Oh, Miss Frasier, I think you do. Mr. Douglas—”
“I’m very pleased for them,” she interrupted breathlessly, hating the sharp pain in her chest, a pa
in that had lived there ever since she’d found out about the engagement. “They make a handsome couple.”
“In that case, if you are happy, I am happy.” He bowed and moved on to greet a couple entering the hotel lobby.
*
Sinclair and Ellie were making the rounds in the ballroom, speaking to guests, thanking their friends for the well-wishes, when Sinclair heard Ellie draw a sharp breath. He looked up to see what had caught her attention.
McKenna stood in the doorway wearing a gown the color of red wine, her dark hair pinned up with delicate tendrils framing her face. She was breathtaking. No wonder Ellie felt insecure.
Sinclair bent his head, concerned. “Did you not know she was coming?”
“She was invited,” Ellie said shortly. “I just didn’t think she would actually show.”
“But if you didn’t want her here…”
Ellie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter.” Then she turned to smile up into his eyes, her smile dazzling, her gloved hand light on his arm. “It’s our night. Our celebration.”
*
McKenna was grateful Mrs. Bramble took pity on her, and invited her to sit with her and Mr. Bramble during the meal. Mr. Graff’s efficient staff discreetly added a place setting to the Brambles’ table for McKenna just before the guests were asked to take their seats.
McKenna had only just sat down in a rustle of silk and satin when a loud shout sounded outside the ballroom. “Douglas! Sinclair Douglas!”
Someone attempted to shush the man but the noise grew louder, more voices, angry shouts, and then the heavy double doors were thrown open.
“Douglas! Where is he?”
There was a shushing of the orchestra. Sinclair rose, dressed in his formal black tie. “I’m here. What is the matter?”
“There’s been an accident at the mine. Thirty, forty trapped. Maybe dead.”
“How?”
“Explosion, and fire. Most of the men are still down there. Can you help us?”
*
It was mayhem in the ballroom. Men in formal dress ran to collect their coats. Women clustered together, trying to stay out of the way.
Ellie followed Sinclair out of the ballroom to the lobby, pleading with him. “Do not go,” she cried, catching his sleeve, holding to his coat. “You cannot go, please!”